


Pinky Swear

by Setkia



Series: Pinky Swear [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8072170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setkia/pseuds/Setkia
Summary: "We should get married.”Tōru watches in fascination as Hajime chokes on his water and doubles over, trying to catch his breath. “What?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the prompt: "a boy and a girl are teenagers who promise they'll marry each other if neither have by the time they're 35, join the boy as he attempts to sabotage all of the girl's relationships until then". Obviously it took a few adjustments. I'd really like to know what you think!

They're eight when they make the promise. It's a normal day of bug-catching and volleyball playing when they stop to take a water break and it comes up.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“Aren't you gonna guess?”

“It'll save us both time and effort if we just admit right now I'm not a mind reader and you should just tell me what you're thinking.”

Tōru pouts. “Buzzkill.” Hajime rolls his eyes, but ti doesnt’ take long before he’s grinning widely. “I think we should get married.”

Tōru watches in fascination as Hajime chokes on his water and doubles over, trying to catch his breath. “ _What_?”

“Well, Nee-chan has a boyfriend, and everyone thinks they'll be getting married and if I'm gonna marry anyone, I want it to be you."

“But we're both guys.”

“Does that matter?”

Hajime blinks. “I ... I think it does.”

“It shouldn't,” says Tōru.

“What if I don't want to marry you?”

Tōru freezes for a moment. This thought never occurred to him. “Then ... We don't get married.” He tries not to sound disappointed, when the solution comes to him. “Ooh! I know! What about if we're single by the time we're thirty-five, we get married?”

Hajime looks at Tōru, tilting his head. He came to find bugs and practice serves, maybe look for some spaceships, not to make wedding plans. But he knows from the expectant look in Tōru's eyes no is not an option. “Okay, sure. If we're not in a relationship by the time we're thirty-five, we'll get married to each other.“

They pinky-swear it, so it's basically written in stone now.

Tōru can't wait to grow up.

* * *

When they're fourteen, it dawns on Tōru that maybe it’s a bit weird that he and Iwa-chan (he's not allowed to call him Hajime anymore, they're “too old for that” and Tōru hates it.) plan to get married when they grow up.

It’s also the first year they’re not in the same class. A lot of girls approach him, for some reason.

“Um, Oikawa-kun, I ... towards you, I ...”

Tōru tilts his head to the side slightly as he waits for her to finish. He feels a bit bad that he can’t remember her name, but he has to keep up his schoolwork and remember plays so you can hardly blame him. Even if she’s been in his class for the past five years. Iwa-chan is the only person whose name is important anyway.

“I like you, Oikawa-kun!”

Tōru stares at her. Her cheeks are so red, he can see them even as she bows. She’s clearly nervous.

“Um…” Tōru doesn't know what he's supposed to say. Is there a right way to respond? Is there a _wrong_ way to respond?

“Oi, Asskawa!”

Since changing to last names, Iwa-chan has given him numerous mean titles—just another thing he hates about this whole predicament— but he still jerks to attention when he hears his best friend's voice. Iwa-chan is so lucky, his voice never cracks while everyone else bumbles through puberty. Even Tōru's gives out sometimes.

“I have to go,” says Tōru, flashing her a polite smile. He barely sees her expression drop as he runs to catch up with Iwa-chan.

“What did she want?”

“She said she liked me,” says Tōru with a shrug.

“Eh?”

“Yeah, I didn't really get it either.”

“Of course she likes you,” says Iwa-chan rolling his eyes.

That catches Tōru's attention.

“What do you mean of course?”

“You're warped but you've got a pretty face.” Ah. Tōru supposes Iwa-chan isn't that lucky after all. His voice just cracked.

“Does Iwa-chan like my face?”

“Shut up, Trashkawa.”

Tōru tries not to think too much about the disappointment in his stomach.

* * *

When they're applying to high schools, Tōru wants to go wherever Iwa-chan goes. Something tells him that despite the small distance between their houses, if they go their separate ways for high school, he won’t be as close to Iwa-chan as he is now.

“Where are you going?”

“I applied to a couple of places,” says Iwa-chan. “I think I'll probably get my second choice though, not sure if they'll let me into Shiratorizawa with my grades.”

Iwa-chan is smart. Tōru knows he is; he and Tōru are always in the classes for the smart kids. How high are Shiratorizawa’s standards?

To be honest, Tōru's applied to Shiratorizawa as well and he thinks he might actually get in, but if Iwa-chan doesn't, he's not going there either.

“Nee-chan is thinking of getting married,” says Tōru changing the topic.

He doesn't like thinking about leaving school and moving ahead. Not because he has to leave any special _kouhai_ behind, (he's _glad_ he won't have to see Tobio-chan’s face anymore) but because he’s so uncertain about where he'll be headed. His whole future rests in Iwa-chan's hands and he doesn't think he knows.

“Hmm?”

“Are we still on for that promise?”

Tōru’s heart stops beating in the moment Iwa-chan takes to think about it, to remember it, because it’s all Tōru can think about most days (besides volleyball) and he can’t stand the hesitation obvious in his best friend’s voice when he replies.

“Yeah, we're still on.”

Tōru wishes the aliens would give him a time machine so he can marry Iwa-chan already.

* * *

When they lose to Karasuno in the practice match, it occurs to Tōru that he loves Iwaizumi Hajime.

He’s practicing his serves against the wall, watching them bounce off, the sound echoing around the empty room. He’s emptied the basket at least twice and his knee is begging him to stop, but he _can’t_.

He can't be beaten by a _kouhai_ , by a prodigy, by that _brat_. He won't let it happen.

He spots Iwa-chan in the middle of his jump and nearly loses his footing. The ball hits the ground, untouched by his palm, his legs nearly giving out on him. The soft thud sounds so final, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. The ball rolls to Iwa-chan’s feet, who picks it up and sends it over to Tōru who tosses it back and watches as Iwa-chan jumps, graceful and perfect, spiking the ball into the wall where ti collides forcefully before bouncing off.

Tōru isn’t sure how long it is that they go on like this, practicing in silence. The light shining in from the windows gets dimmer and dimmer until it’s almost black. The benefit of being captain is he can lock up whenever he wants to.

There are no breaks, no time for hesitation.

They even figure out a new play they can use against those damn crows.

Flightless? Yeah right. Number five was _soaring_. Iwa-chan is more beautiful when he spikes though.

When Tōru's legs finally give out on him and he falls, Iwa-chan starts to collect the balls wordlessly.

Tōru wants to help, he really does, or, if not help, tease Iwa-chan for being such a good boy but his throat won't work.

He knows Tobio-chan is great, knows he's a prodigy. Even if their defence is full of holes, they’re an amazing team considering Seijoh wasn’t expecting anything from them. They’ll certainly be a formidable enemy. He can’t move. He’s numb.

"Why?" The word escapes the moment he finds his voice, sitting on the floor in an uncomfortable position that he’s sure Iwa-chan will yell at him for later. _It’s what you get for overworking yourself, Shittykawa_ , he can hear him say.

Iwa-chan doesn’t say anything like that. Instead, he says,

“Because you needed it.”

Tōru falls apart inside.

He’s quite an actor, ask anyone, but there’s one person he’s never been able to lie to, who he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to lie to.One person who’ll see through every façade, every fake smile, and every cheesy line and he’s staring him right in the eyes, unflinching, unchanging, unmoving.

He’s not leaving, not like the cool guys do in all the books and movies. He stays because Tōru needs him, needs him in a way Iwa-chan knows and Tōru is just starting to realize.

He can never pretend with Iwa-chan. He doesn’t want to.

“Wanna go again?”

He’s tired, obviously exhausted from the sweat beading from his forehead and he’s leaning on the basket of volleyballs, like he needs the support. Though the balls are all collected, it hasn’t been put away, like it’s ready to go again if Tōru will only say the word. If the captain says he wants to practice some more, Iwa-chan will give it a hundred fifty percent, even if he has to drag his energy dry body across the court because, like he said, Tōru needs it.

He opens his mouth.

_Be mine._

The words don't come out, clogged in his throat and he’s hit with an intense wave of emotion.

_Fear._

He's scared. He's afraid, more anxious than losing to Kageyama, more petrified than being a failure, more horrified than being kicked off the team, absolutely aching with pain and nerves at the thought of rejection.

“No, I'm all good now.”

Iwa-chan doesn't believe him.

Tōru can't decide whether he hates or loves (yes, _loves_ ) him for it.

* * *

It's during university that Tōru truly understands the saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder”.

He's sure everyone in his class has heard Iwa-chan's name more than any other word he’s ever said and soon he's catching himself, saying “my friend” instead. It doesn't matter. Everyone knows he's talking about Iwa-chan.

Someone asks him why he's still so close to him. After so many years of being right next to each other isn't going to separate universities like being liberated? Isn't he sick of him yet? What do they even talk about when they're side by side all the time?

Tōru's never thought of it that way. To be honest he doesn't understand what they're talking about.

What is there _not_ to talk about?

You don’t have to bother with the plain and boring conversations you do just for pleasantries when you know each other as long as Tōru and Iwa-chan have known each other. You talk about everything and nothing, get to the deep shit and then pretend it’s just a joke. You can say anything and everything, open yourself up entirely to them and watch them respond equally open. Aliens, bugs, volleyball, sometimes just silence is okay if he’s in the right company.

He sees Iwa-chan perhaps once a month if they're lucky and they usually just play volleyball.

They don't even talk about what they've done without each other, though he doesn’t know what he’d say if asked about it. Every moment without him passes like a blur, like he’s going through the motions of life without processing or feeling anything.

Iwa-chan gives no indication of missing Tōru as much as Tōru misses him.

The brunet wonders if he remembers their promise. Because if he doesn't, Tōru will remind him. And if Iwa-chan ever gets into a relationship with someone, Tōru already knows what he'll do, because he's selfish and even if Iwa-chan doesn't like him like that, he'll keep his promise because Iwa-chan never breaks a promise and Tōru will take advantage of that if he has to.

* * *

When Oikawa Tōru is nineteen, his whole world is destroyed by a single sentence.

“I got a girlfriend.”

Tōru hears the volleyball hit the ground, almost in slow motion and his hands fall to his sides helplessly. He asked Hajime (he's nearly twenty, he can call his friend whatever he wants so long as it never slips past his lips) what's been new as he's supposed to, to be polite and all, but something like this ... Tōru never expected this.

He knows Hajime is attractive. Not everyone's cup of tea with a wide forehead, tan skin and spiky hair, but he has mesmerizing eyes and his arms are so strong and maybe he's rough around the edges, but he's still so _kind,_ much kinder than anyone else thinks, just because he shows how he cares in weird ways.

He knows it was just a matter of time until someone asked him out, or he got a crush who would respond in kind. Tōru isn't completely innocent, he remembers that time he once had a girlfriend who broke up with him for being too obsessed with volleyball, but to be honest it's been a long time since he's thought of volleyball as a separate thing from Hajime and so maybe he's always been a little obsessed with his childhood best friend.

“Oh?” he says, picking up the ball. “Is she hot?” He thinks of those people who say it takes less muscles to smile than to frown. They don't know shit.

Hajime frowns. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

_He knows._

“Don't lie to me, Shittykawa.”

“I just want to know who was crazy enough to go out with Iwa-chan,” he says. He prays Hajime won’t notice.

Hajime shrugs and that’s that, they’re back to acting like everything’s normal. And it hurts.

Because Tōru can pretend that the conversation never happened and Hajime is still his, but every time he gets too closed very time he lets himself slip and dream, he remembers Hajime’s got a girlfriend and it ruins everything.

Tōru is selfish. He’s a king, but Hajime isn’t his to claim as queen, or rather, king as well because he doesn’t like to think of Hajime as anything other than his equal. He can’t find it within himself to be selfish when it comes to Iwaizumi Hajime.

For his secret love, for his crush, for his ace, for his teammate, but most importantly, for his best friend who knows him better than anyone else in the world, he will be selfless.

Just this once.

* * *

It is hard to be selfless.

Tōru has come to realize that it's very hard to change overnight. The first step is to stop thinking about Hajime so much, but it’s very hard and it's not for lack of trying.

When you know someone since you first open your eyes, they tend to be in all your memories and it makes _not_ thinking about them impossible. Even things that Hajime has no part in remind him of his best friend because his only thought during is “he would love this” or “he would hate this” and it’s always “when can I tell him?”, because nothing has ever happened to Tōru until Hajime knows about it.

He can't even look at his nephew anymore.

Takeru is growing up to be a good boy, and Tōru likes teaching him but he reminds him of Hajime.

It's not for the reasons one might think. It's not because, like Hajime, Takeru was talked into volleyball by Tōru and eventually developed an affinity towards it. It's not even that he'll constantly ask how Zumi is doing (Iwaizumi is a long tongue-twister when he's four, but now that he's older the name's just stuck, kinda like Iwa-chan). It's what he represents.

A normal family. A child born of a mother, living a normal life.

Tōru knows that his parents expect him to get married one day to a nice girl and have a child or two. He’s sure that's what Hajime's parents expect of him too because it's a perfectly rational assumption for parents to make. A good wife, a nice job, wonderful children, what more could you want? Tōru can't offer such a thing. No matter what happens he can never compare to the curves of a woman. He may have a pretty face, he may be graceful and delicate looking at times, but ultimately he is male. His voice is deep, his shoulders are broad, his body is firm and his fingers are callused.

Takeru is everything Tōru can never give Hajime and everything Hajime deserves.

It hurts to look at him sometimes.

* * *

When he's in the middle of a lecture, he gets a piece of paper thrown at the back of his head. It says to go to the roof after class.

There's a girl standing across from him and Tōru realizes that many people have confessed to him and it’s only been a few months into the year.

The only variable? Hajime isn't here.

It occurs to him that the girls are intimidated by Hajime, the confessions were few in number in high school and only when he was alone.

He gives her a small smile but already knows his answer.

“I ... towards you, I ...”

Tōru holds up his hand, unshed tears in his eyes. He knows the setup, the scene and he knows his answer.

“Mei-chan—”

“I know you don't like me!”

Tōru is taken aback by the sudden change in routine.

“My friends think I'm crazy to confess to you, since you don't accept any of them. You like someone else, right?”

Is he that transparent? Has Hajime figured it out?

“It's Iwa-chan, isn't it?”

Tōru sucks in a deep breath, but he can't respond. His voice doesn't work.

“I'm okay with that,” says Mei. “She's a very lucky girl.”

_He's not a she._

Tōru doesn't bother to correct her.

“But Oikawa-kun ... I ... How long have you been waiting?”

“What?”

“How long have you been waiting for her?”

It’s none of her business, but he sucks in a breath and thinks because he’s never spoken about this before and it’s like an elephant’s been on his chest all these years. “Technically, it's only been two years, almost three. But ... I think it's really been eleven.”

Mei nods, like she understands. She doesn't know shit. “I don't care about that,” she says. “Even if it's just to humour me, even if it's pretend, only for a little while, I want Oikawa-kun to look at me the way he does when he speaks of Iwa-chan.”

Tōru's expression hardens and Mei looks taken aback. Ah yes, only his teammates have ever seen this face of his, and only Hajime is unafraid, undeterred. “No.”

“But—”

“Have more respect than that, Mei-chan,” he says. “Will you really settle for second best? Are you really okay with knowing you're only a distraction to me? Would you truly be satisfied, knowing that when I look at you, I'm really thinking of someone else?” He clenches his fists. “What you're proposing, it's worse. You think it's okay now but as time goes on, you're going to realize you can't stand it. It'll hurt more than anything you've ever done.

“All or nothing, that's what you should have, it's what you deserve, to have a taste but never be able to touch ...” Tōru can't hold in a shiver. “It's unbearable. Respect yourself more than that. Don't let yourself be used.”

“Oikawa-kun, are you being used?”

He lets out a laugh. It’s empty. “Can you call it being used when you offer?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying—”

“Look at me, Mei-chan,” says Tōru, holding her face in his hands. “Look at me. What do you see? Look into my eyes. Can you tell me what you see there?”

Because when Tōru looks in the mirror he sees broken fragments of life. He sees dry, fake smiles, he sees shattered eyes, cracked glass.

“Do you see what it does to you?”

“Why do you continue?”

Tōru chuckles darkly. “Because without them, I can't breathe. The most important thing is you can't let them see. I can't let them know. Do you know what happens when you wear a mask every day? You suffocate from it.”

“Oikawa-kun—”

“You know, I really hate you,” says Tōru softly. “You're so beautiful, so fair-skinned. You have a pretty smile, a stunning body. And you can do what I cannot. And for that, I loathe you.”

Mei backs away, fear in her eyes.

Envy is not a good look on him.

Oh, if only Hajime could see him now.

* * *

Tōru has just turned twenty when his best friend, secret love and tormentor sits down next to him at the bar and finds a brand new way to break his heart.

“Oi, Shittykawa, why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Tōru’s fist clenches. _Because I’m waiting on you._ He bites them down, the same way he chokes back silent tears every night with his only witness being the stars. “No one interesting, I guess.”

“Hmm?”

Shit. Is he being too obvious? Tōru holds his breath for a moment as Hajime stares at him, his gaze so intense he feels like he’s being taken apart with every gear and stray part that makes him who he is being closely examined. He wonders if Hajime likes what he sees. If he realizes that _he’s_ mostly what makes the clockwork respond, like a well-oiled machine triggered by his presence. His stomach churns. He'll blame it on the alcohol.

“Tōru …”

Tōru’s breath does not catch in his throat because that would be strange, right? Oh fuck it, he’s totally breathless. It’s been years since he’s heard his first name slip from Hajime’s lips.

And since Hajime’s started it, Tōru’s pretty sure he can do it too. “Haj—”

Tōru hates Hajime’s phone. More accurately, he hates his stupid girlfriend who has his stupid phone number who can’t go five seconds without calling him. He’s a hypocrite. Tōru feels like a zombie when Hajime’s not around.

Hajime watches him carefully, as though asking him silently if he can answer it.

“Your girl needs you, Iwa-chan,” says Tōru, praying that just this once, Hajime will accept his lies at face value.

It takes forever for Hajime to leave the room. The moment the door closes behind him, he falls apart.

He was hoping that Hajime’s relationship with her would be short, but it's lasted eight months and now Tōru feels like he’s got no chance. At least before he could pretend.

Tōru won’t lie, he fantasizes about the day Hajime’s girlfriend will break up with him because he’s just not there enough and he’ll go to Tōru and _he’ll_ get to comfort _him_ for once and then he’ll look at him all teary-eyed and say that he’s secretly loved Tōru all this time and Tōru will call him an idiot for wasted time but they’ll kiss and it’ll be everything Tōru dreams of.

He hates himself for these self-indulgent dreams. And it’s not because in them, Hajime is finally his, or that he’s stolen him away from his girlfriend, but because he’s willing to make Hajime suffer to get this ideal, picturesque moment that’ll never happen. It hurts more to see Hajime in pain than to be in pain himself.

By the time the bartender hands him his next shot, he’s pretty sure he knows his secret. Tōru gets the feeling he’ll be getting to know the man very well.

* * *

The bartender’s name is Izumi.

Tōru knows because when he’s in the middle of ripping off said-bartender’s clothes, he tells him before he’s fucked against the wall and he screws up his name horribly and embarrassingly.

“Is that his name?” asks Izumi. “Hajime?”

Tōru grits his teeth but he nods anyway. “Iwaizumi Hajime,” he says softly.

“You can call me that if it makes you feel better. I don’t mind.”

But _Tōru_ minds because part of him was hoping that he and Hajime could be each other’s firsts and now he’s gone and ruined that too. He’s just screwing up, making plans for non-existent relationships that’ll never happen.

“I can’t …”

Izumi nods. “I get it.”

“How can you?” Tōru snaps. “You don’t know anything about me, except that I’m huge lightweight!”

“I know you love him.”

It's the first time he hears the truth spoken aloud and it’s not even him who says it. Is he really that obvious? Hajime’s going to be so disgusted with him.

“I know he doesn’t know. That he has a girlfriend. I know that you’re going to destroy your liver if you keep this up and you need to release tension. And I know that it was your first time.”

“That obvious?”

“You came pretty quickly,” admits Izumi. “How long?”

How long?How long since what? How long has he been in love with him? Probably forever. How long has he wished he was a girl so that these feelings wouldn’t be so weird? He’s lost count of the years. How long has he spent thinking indecent thoughts about his best friend? Probably since he’s realized what masturbation is. How long has he cried himself to sleep knowing the impossibility of anything happening? He’s sure the neighbours could tell you. How long has he been clinging onto that desperate hope of a childish promise? Since he realized he was doomed an infinite amount of years ago.

But he doesn’t tell these things to the bartender who’s basically a stranger who he just shoved his dick into.

“Too long.”

* * *

When they’re twenty-three, they move in together.

University is over, Tōru’s pursuing professional volleyball and Hajime is in sports-med. Which technically means Hajime is a doctor. If that doesn’t give Tōru more to fantasize about, he doesn’t know what does.

He’s still with his girlfriend and it still hurts but now it’s become normal for him and he’s not sure if that hurts more than the actual pain.

Loving Iwaizumi Hajime is not a fact, it’s a lifestyle, something he’s learnt to program into his daily routine and accept as part of him now.

When they’re laying down the rules of the apartment there are tons of habits Tōru doesn’t tell Hajime about.

Like how he’ll stare at him a bit too long if he leaves the bathroom in only a towel.

He doesn’t tell him that he’ll sit on the couch waiting for him to get back from his date but then conveniently be too tired to hear about it (not that Hajime kisses and tells).

He _does_ tell him that he’ll blare his music pretty loudly at times (he won’t tell him it’s to cover up his cries).

He doesn’t tell him that he’ll try to stop him from leaving the apartment at any cost to have him closer.

He doesn’t tell him that he’ll probably snuggle closer than he should when they watch movies.

He doesn’t tell him that he’ll jokingly tell him he loves him and mean it with every fibre of his being.

But that’s okay. Hajime’s too dense to pick up on it anyway.

* * *

Tōru is twenty-seven when he brings someone home for the first time.

He’s drunk, to the point where he can barely stand up and he’s clinging onto her like she’s his lifeline. She’s giggling and he can’t help but giggle too as they stumble into the apartment and Hajime is sitting there on the couch watching some kind of nature documentary.

It’s been ten years. He’s had enough. He’s accepted he’ll never have him, so he may as well have fun while he’s still young and beautiful. He feels triumphant as he drags the girl into his room and slams the door.

They do it.

He doesn’t know if it counts as “good”, but he falls asleep immediately after and wakes up without any clue what her name is.

Hajime hands him some pills without asking a thing, but he looks uncomfortable. Tōru hopes he’s jealous. He knows better though.

He can read Hajime like a book, same way he can read him and he knows when he’s making things up so he’ll feel better. That doesn’t stop him from clinging onto him desperately with the excuse of having a killer headache.

* * *

At twenty-nine, Tōru fucks up.

He falls during his jump serve and gets pulled off the court.

The doctor tells him he can never play again and Tōru has seen movies like this, where a girl is told she has six months to live and yet she defies the odds.

Something tells him that's not him.

Hajime brings him home and he falls onto the couch and cries.

Volleyball ... Volleyball is Tōru’s life.

It’s the only thing he loves as much, if not more, than Hajime and if he doesn’t have it, who is he? It’s been the thing that’s shaped him almost as much as his parents. To be told he can never play again … It has to be some kind of sick joke the universe is playing on him. He can’t have Hajime and now he can’t have volleyball.

Hajime holds him, and Tōru falls apart. The day his dreams are crushed, his damnation holds him closer. It's the sweetest torture.

In the past few years, the titles Tōru has given Hajime have changed.

He now calls him Iwaizumi-kun when they’re in public because “Iwa-chan” is not professional. He still calls him “Hajime” in his head, and in his head, Hajime calls him “Tōru”.

Hajime is his best friend.

He’s stopped being his teammate a while ago, but that doesn’t mean they’ve stopped being partners. Tōru’s favourite volleyball moments are when he’s practicing with Hajime and he gets to toss to him.

Hajime is his secret love, the one who breaks his heart, but glues it back together just enough for him to function.

Hajime is also his doctor.

Studying sports-med helps Hajime know when Tōru should practice, where, how often, and when he has to stop him.

Tōru still practices when he’s not supposed to.

It keeps his mind off of the fact that Hajime’s out with his girlfriend.

That night, while he cries Hajime’s girlfriend comes to visit.

She asks to go out and Hajime tells her no, his friend needs him.

She slaps him.

They’re over now.

And even though he knows it’s wrong, Tōru feels as though the gods have given Hajime back to him somehow, even if he can never have him the way he wants.

* * *

Tōru is thirty-one when he’s able to play again.

It’s thanks to Hajime, really. He’s defied the impossible. A special surgery to fix his knee, a strict training schedule that forces him to quit, even when he doesn’t want to, and of course, _lots_ of alien movies.

He’s considered an experienced player now and with his youth gone, he’s no longer a prodigy (not that he ever was in the first place). He doesn’t really mind that much.

He makes a great comeback, Hajime by his side so that he doesn’t take such a bad fall again.

The team says that with Tōru’s return comes the Demon Doctor. He knows they’re talking about Hajime.

They tease him, say he should man up and apologize so he can stop sleeping on the couch and tap that. It physically pains him to tell them they’re wrong.

Hajime gives him a strange look when he hears him deny the accusations. It has to be relief, that he’s dispelling these rumours, but it looks too much like pain.

He’s getting older, maybe he put his contacts in wrong.

* * *

Tōru stares at the clock, waiting for midnight. He’ll be thirty-five soon.

Thirty-five.

He remembers how when he was younger and stupid, he thought the moment it happened he and Hajime could get married.

Now everything is falling apart.

True, Hajime is no longer in a relationship, but it’s been twenty-seven years. That’s a long time to remember such a childish promise made between two boys who were oblivious to the harsh realities of life and how sometimes you don’t always get your best friend who you love with everything you have.

He knows Hajime has plans to move. After over a decade of sharing a shitty apartment, he’ll move on to greater things and when Tōru is older, he’ll be a retired Olympic volleyball player, still talking about that sports-med doctor he used to know.

Midnight strikes.

“Oi, Trashkawa!”

Though many things have changed over the years, Hajime’s insistence that “Oikawa” doesn’t suit him remains constant. Though it leaves an ache in his chest that “Tōru” is only used on special occasions, he can always depend on Hajime to be predictable.

He’s about to open his bedroom door, when Hajime opens it for him and drops an empty suitcase in front of him.

Tōru’s mind goes blank, unable to focus on anything except for his world shifting on its axis.

Hajime is holding a packed suitcase.

“Iwaizumi,” says Tōru. It’s not so much that Hajime’s leaving— he always knew he would— but that he’s only telling him _now_. He’s had weeks to tell him before his departure. “Where … where are you going?” He hopes he doesn't sound too choked up.

“America.”

_That far?_

“Oh.”

Hajime shoves the empty suitcase towards Tōru. “Too lazy to pack all at once? Iwa-chan,” he teases, the old nickname nearly bringing him to tears, “you can’t slack off forever.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for you.”

Tōru stares. “What?”

“You’re thirty-five now, right?”

“Yes …?”

“Then let’s get going.”

“Let’s?” Tōru repeats. How does him being thirty-five have anything to do with relocating? “What do you mean—”

“I’m in a relationship.”

Tōru’s heart breaks anew for the thousandth time. He barely even feels it anymore. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Very committed and I’m moving to the US.”

“How committed?”

“It’s been about … four years?” Hajime says. “Now pack up, Shitkawa.”

Tōru stares at him still. He’s not making any sense. “Why do I need to pack?”

“I can’t marry you here, now can I?” Hajime asks, rolling his eyes as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Marry me?” Tōru echoes.

“We had a promise, didn’t we? Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“No, I …” Tōru still can’t fully understand anything. “But you’re in a relationship, you’re committed—”

“To you.”

And with that every crack, every tear in his heart seems to have been mended. Though he still doesn’t fully understand, he has no doubt he and Hajime will make it through this, the same way they’ve made it through the past twenty-seven years. Together.

“Pack up. We’re getting married.”

And that’s all that matters now.


End file.
